MarySue's Day
by Coral1
Summary: She's everywhere, she makes regulars look like chumps, she's annoying, she's like a root canal without painkillers... and no one wants to admit writing her. Here is my version of the woman we love to hate.


MarySue's Day  
  
By Coral  
  
MarySue's day had been routine up to now, but a little problem came up. Nothing she couldn't handle, after all. She leaned back on her leather office chair and reviewed the events of the day in her mind, her perfect memory recalling every detail.  
  
***  
  
The knock on her door surprised her... it was only 06:00! Of course, her day started much earlier, with a fast marathon length jog and a brisk shower. She was preparing her home-grown coffee beans for the grinder when she was interrupted. MarySue walked to the door, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. She was wearing only a short bathrobe that clung to her flat stomach and underlined the shape of her perfectly shaped breasts, but it did not worry her. She had an idea as to who her guest would be.  
  
She opened the door and, as she knew, a blushing Admiral Nelson was waiting, holding two dozen long stem roses. She smiled at him and gestured for him to make himself comfortable in her well appointed living room. Of course, every picture, sculpture and antique was an original. It was not as if the Admiral was her first (and only) suitor. She put the flowers in the crystal Lalique vase given to her by some sheik she met a few years ago.   
  
MarySue walked back to the living room and curled on the couch, her long, slender legs under her. She put a perfectly manicured hand on Nelson's arm.   
  
"What can I do for you, Admiral? The flowers are very nice, thank you," she purred in her throaty voice. The voice that sang well enough to bring a mermaid to tears.   
  
"Well, you see, you have been such a big help to us on the sub, I want to ask you to stay on permanently. Of course, you'll answer only to me, after all, I still own the Seaview. Lee would be very happy too, if you stayed."  
  
"I would love to, but even if I have my F-18 pilot's license, my diver's certification and my Formula One racing car, I don't have a rank as an officer. I know the boys would not mind, but my moral standards will not allow it," she replied.   
  
Her deep blue eyes reflected the light from the panoramic window, echoing the colours of the ocean. Her wavy mane of jet black hair was highlighted by streaks of dark blue when she was in the sun. It offset her perfect tawny complexion, her small straight nose and her rosebud lips.   
  
She was a tad under 5'9" with a figure that did not need exercise, but a girl had to have interests other than intellectual pursuits. Her latest dissertation had gone well and she was now working on her 11th doctoral degree. Life was short and she wanted to put the most into it. She was already 25 and not much to show for it yet!   
  
"Well," Nelson said, "You won't need a military rank if you are part owner of the Seaview."  
  
"But... I did not think you would be interested in selling any part of it. I know I helped a bit with that research that got you the Nobel prize, no, no, don't protest... I didn't need my name added to another one of those. They are cluttering my dresser as it is!"  
  
"Actually, I was not going to sell you parts. I want you to marry me."  
  
"Oh, Harry!" MarySue was overwhelmed for 3.78 seconds. "Of course, I will. Is next week OK? I do need some time to get JP here, you know."  
  
"JP? Who is JP? A relative?" Nelson said in a suspicious voice.  
  
MarySue's liquid laughter filled the room. "Don't be jealous, I want him to celebrate the wedding. Rome is not that close and he's not in such good health anymore. I can always ask Elizabeth and Philip to watch over him, if they travel together."  
  
"Do whatever you want. I'll be in my office, dear," Nelson said with a beatific smile.  
  
MarySue rose to guide him to the door and said goodbye with a kiss that almost removed his tonsils. She closed the door behind Nelson while he was trying to get his blood pressure back below 180.   
  
She got dressed in her little black dress and decided that a plain five strand pearl necklace would be best for today. She could not be too flashy, after all, she was engaged.   
  
She drove to her office suite in the main N.I.M.R. building and picked up the messages from her secretary. MarySue could see the fawning admiration on the woman's face, but she was indulgent about it. The poor waif could not do otherwise. If anything, MarySue was always very kind to those less fortunate. Which was pretty much everyone.  
  
She looked over her perfectly arranged desk and slipped her pert derriere into the leather chair. Crossing her long legs, she balanced her shoe on her toes. She started and finished the plans for the design modifications on the Seaview, planned the wedding reception menu (the Daili Lama would certainly not like either fish or fowl), modified her wedding dress (kept in a nitrogen filled bag, just in case the occasion demanded it), canceled her series of lectures on brain surgery (she should be able to get someone else to give them for her), pushed back her tour with the Classical Symphony Orchestra and decided that Martha could wait for the cooking lessons (after all, MarySue had been teaching her for the last four years).  
  
Since it was not time for lunch yet, MarySue took a walk to the sub, to see how the work progressed. When she got to the control room, she was greeted by Lee Crane and Chip Morton.   
  
"We heard the news, congratulations," Lee said, taking her hand in his and kissing her fingers.   
  
Chip added his own wishes, but it was plain to see that he was sorely disappointed.   
  
"Thank you both. How is everything going?" she asked, her voice soothing the two officers.   
  
Neither had time to reply, the alarm went off. The gauge indicating the core temperature of the reactor was climbing dangerously high. Without waiting a moment more, MarySue started to run, her high heel shoes clicking on the deck. She left the two men trying to keep up with her and failing. She rushed in the reactor room and saw Patterson unconscious on the floor. A very hairy monster was trying to remove the control rods. With a swift karate kick in the leg and the Vulcan Death Grip, she dispatched the creature.   
  
Once she had the rods back in place, MarySue went to Patterson. He was having a hard time breathing. She picked him up and rushed him to sickbay, where the doctor was expecting her. She put on a surgical gown and took over. She was the only one who could save the poor crewman.   
  
Removing the gown, she gave her report to Crane. "He'll be fine. Good thing I knew what to do. Now, what else can I do?"   
  
"Well, it seems Cookie is having some trouble with the Béarnaise sauce," Chip supplied helpfully.   
  
She graced them with a smile that could stop traffic on a eight lane highway at rush-hour and left for the galley.   
  
The senior officers watched as the hourglass figure (42-24-36) sashayed down the corridor, her hips swaying provocatively, the young woman not truly aware of her charisma and sex-appeal.   
  
After helping the hapless Cookie, MarySue thought that having lunch with her future husband would be just the perfect way to finish the morning.   
  
There would be many more adventures before the day was over. Her only remaining dilemma (fish or fowl) could wait.  
  
The End  
  
  



End file.
